


If There Were Ever a Time

by Pinkablu



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Basically written like a novel so i really wasn't joking about slow burn, Child Abuse, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, More tags as I go along tbh, No one is ok, Polyamory, Racism, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Sole is NOT Nora/Nate, Such a slow burn the candle might be melted wax by the time we get there, Suicide Mentions/Intentions, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkablu/pseuds/Pinkablu
Summary: “If there were ever a time when the world was alright, I don’t think I was there for it.”---Nate and Nora Campbell were everything to Jo Sawyer. They were her pillars when her own had crumbled, they were her saviors in a world that despised Chinese heritage, her family when her own was behind bars.And Nate and Nora were the reason she couldn't die just yet. She'd find their son first, make sure he got a good home like the one they had given Jo all those years ago.Only then could she end herself, and meet them on the other side, if there was one.But plans never go according to theory.---





	1. Exposition

**Author's Note:**

> CHAPTER TRIGGERS: Racism, Discrimination, Bullying, Child Abuse, Alcohol and Drug Abuse, Child Death (non-explicit), Mentions of Sexual Assault / Rape, some Name Dysphoria if you pay attention.
> 
> Sorry to my readers who wanted more Overwatch, but life is rough and that muse is dead until further notice. I'm writing this mostly to cope with life by beating the shit out of an OC, and I hope it entertains those who come along. I'll be updating trigger lists as chapters come along, but for the most part expect the worst. 
> 
> Also, the exposition is supposed to be vague while giving you what you need to know. A lot will be revisited as we go along, but I didn't want to write a novel on the past before the details were relevant. I hope you don't mind!

Nate and Nora Campbell were everything to Jo Sawyer. Absolutely everything. When she lost all love for herself, she found it in them, and not a day went by she didn’t thank whatever deity there might be in the sky that Nate’s father had found her when he did, tucked away in her father’s attic of 130 degrees fahrenheit and climbing.

 

She had been practically starved. Her body was thin and fragile, her skin covered in a shean of sweat she couldn’t feel anymore. She always thought hell would be below the ground, not two stories above.

 

And when the trapdoor to the attic swung open, she hardly even flinched. Clouds of dust sprang up from the neglected floorboards, a few cockroaches scattered-- _ cockroaches. _ She wanted to scream but couldn’t; She had a dreadful fear of insects, ever since a widow bit her big toe three years back.

 

But her throat was too tight, too dry to speak and it felt like the last drop of water in her body seeped into her eyes, dripping down her cheeks when she saw not the face of her father peering through the dust at her, but her friend’s father instead.

 

A police officer.

 

“Jesus Christ,  _ someone call an ambulance! _ ” he shouted to someone below as he heaved himself into the suffocating room. He reached out to her, gently, as if coaxing a stray to his porch.

 

“Jiao? Jiao, it’s me, sweetie,” he whispered. “I’m here--we’re going to get you out of here, alright? We’re going to get you help.”

 

She was twelve when he carried her down from her two-story hell.

 

**X.X.2063 -- 14 Years Old**

 

Nate’s father let her stay with them until she graduated high school. His name was Nathan, which was why younger Nathan went by Nate instead, for sake of simplicity. He was a man of justice, if there ever was one, and their suppers were often spent listening to the news or talking about the latest paper headline. And when Nora, Nate’s best friend and their neighbor stopped by with her family on holidays, Jo learned even more about their world and the intricate laws that “precariously held together a society else-wise doomed by human nature”, as Mr. Sue so eloquently put it.

 

“Laws are in place to protect people,” he had said, his eyes drifting over to where Jo sat, timidly poking at her food because she just wasn’t feeling up for lasagna that night. “And when we as people fail to uphold those laws to their best moral standards...we suffer.”

 

It was Mr. Sue that had put her father behind bars. She thanked him and excused herself from the table. No one stopped her.

 

**X.X.2065 -- 16 Years Old**

 

She thought Nathan would kick her out for what happened at prom. She thought she’d finally be put into foster care or, worse, sent to the growing internment camps other Chinese-Americans were being sent to every day. She could feel the lingering red paint tightening against her skin as it dried, and it seemed there was just too much to peel off, so she sat in silence waiting for Nathan to pick her up from the Principal's office instead.

 

Part of her wished he’d hurry. The Principal’s face was as red as the paint that ruined the dress Nora had bought for her. It had been white, with sparkles, but the other students thought red was more fit for a “commie”. 

 

Nora was already home with her family. Nate was outside, still shouting at whoever had blocked his way into the office, if she could understand him right over the Principal’s long lecture of how this was, of course, all her fault. 

 

Then the door slammed open so hard, Jo was suddenly twelve again in her father’s attic with Nathan barreling through to defend her. The Principal didn’t get to lecture Nathan, because no one lectured a war veteran and honored police officer when he shouted in your face like a drill sergeant. 

 

And like a whirlwind, it was over. She felt Nate’s hand on her shoulder, coaxing her from the seat she had been glued to, Nathan’s hand landing on her other shoulder in a protective gesture as they led her through the crowded halls. 

 

“ _ Don’t listen to them _ ,” they both said, hushed but defiant. “ _ Not to a damn word they say. _ ”

 

But when they got home, it wasn’t words that were spoken that finally made her cry--that finally made her crumple onto their lawn with a scream.

 

It was the words they wrote across the garage door.

 

“COMMIES DESERVE TO BURN IN ATTICS”.

 

The paint was still red.

 

**X.X.2067-- 18 Years Old**

 

She didn’t attend graduation. No one that had known Chinese (or Russian) blood did, she’s sure. She’s sitting on the couch watching the latest news with Mrs. Campbell in her graduation robes, her cap beside her.

 

Mrs. Campbell’s first name was Susan, and though she was kind enough she wasn't nearly as kind as Mr.Campbell--there was a distance she insisted on putting between herself and Jo, and Jo never tried to breach it. 

 

Nate said his mother’s brother died to a kamikaze, and Jo figured that was enough reason in America to avoid someone with the first name “Jiao”, even if her father had been    
White and a war veteran, too.

 

“They’re getting closer,” she heard Susan say to her left, from her recliner three feet away. “To pushing the button. It’s just a matter of time.”

 

Jo wondered if nuclear warheads could really be fired with a single button. Nate told her RPGs were that way, so why not a nuclear missile? 

 

She said “because someone could accidentally push the button”.

 

Nate’s eyes turned sad and he put his hands on both her shoulders, leaning down so they could make eye contact.

 

“They’ll do everything they can, when it happens, to insist it was an accident, Jo,” he said, fingers tightening against her skin. “Don’t believe them.”

 

When he had let go, she wondered if she’d be around to believe in anything.

 

**\---**

 

Nora was crying and Nate was still leaving. At eighteen years old he decided he had to do something about the war, and the best thing that came to mind was joining it. Nora said she’d never forgive him if he died, and he said that was alright because he’d have to do unforgivable things to buy them a few more days of happiness there in the United States.

 

Jo was glad they didn’t leave on a sour note in the end. Nora ran up to Nate and wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his lips with such desperation someone could have mistaken their shadow as a single person. She didn’t hear what they said after that, they were too far away, and the van was honking to hurry the farewell along. 

 

Nora came back crying a little less, her parents there to soothe her. Susan walked over too, and Jo experienced such a visceral fear when she imagined a folded flag being sent back home in place of a body, a letter about a kamikaze on top.

 

She wondered if Nora would distance herself like Susan had. 

 

She hoped she wouldn’t lose them both at the same time like that. She prayed Nate would come home one day.

 

**X.X.2068 -- 19 Years Old**

 

Jo had a sneaking suspicion the acceptance letter came to her only because Nathan had allowed her to legally change her name to “Jo” once and for all, and maybe because he had a word or two with the head administrators there. Nora’s father, Mr. Sue, probably did something too--but Jo didn’t care, because this acceptance letter meant she would be attending the same college Nora had been at for a year already. 

 

She was going to follow in Nathan’s footsteps--but not in the army, like Nate had done (and excelled at, to boot). No, she was going to become a police officer and even though Susan tried to dissuade her, Nathan was nothing but supportive. 

 

“The Special Victims Unit. That’s where I want to work,” Jo had said, pointing to the television where a re-run was showing. “I want to help kids like me. How you helped me.”

 

And that was the first time she felt she had a purpose in her life other than to be a damsel in distress. Her life suddenly had meaning, and with Nora’s help she dug her heels in deep and refused to budge no matter what any student or teacher dare say to her. 

 

And though it was only Nora’s second year when Jo had arrived, she was top of her class; a prophesized alumni that would have her picture in their hall of fame for years to come. They shouldn’t have been surprised when she worked the system in Jo’s favor for her, effectively firing a teacher less than a month in for using a derogatory slur.

 

People talked less after that, or at least, talked less to their face. Jo wondered if she’d ever be able to repay Nora or Nate or Nathan, but when she got her first report card covered in all A’s, she thought she was on the right track.

 

Nathan did too. He sent her a wad of cash as a reward, to “buy herself a cake” with. She saved it instead, and jogged ten laps.

 

She’d buy a cake to share with him when they could work together as equals.

 

**X.X.2072 -- 23 Years Old**

 

It was Nora who brought the cake. She set it on Jo’s desk, gingerly, as if it could all shatter if so much as a breath touched it wrong. No one else was there--it was currently during late hours. Too late,  really, but no one had dared try to make Jo leave. Not that day. Not October 23rd. 

 

“For your promotion,” Nora whispered delicately, trying to peer under Jo’s hands to see her eyes. Her hands were keeping her head up off her desk, but more importantly they were hiding her tears until they began to drip onto the cold case files below her. The ink began to bleed.

 

“I don’t want a cake until I find him,” Jo said, her voice cracking, phlegm stuck in her throat. “I won’t eat cake until he’s caught, Nora.”

 

“I understand,” she said, pulling a chair up to sit in. “...Nate said the same thing. And we’ll find the one that’s doing this, Jo, I swear we will and when we do, I’ll put him behind bars for life.”

 

“I want death penalty.”

 

“I never said his life would be long.”

 

Jo’s last string of self control snapped and she flung the cold case so it hit the wall opposite of them. The files scattered, floating hazardously back to the ground. Six children, one cop--no leads at all, except those that Nathan had left behind for her before getting himself shot. And they had all gone cold.

 

Nathan had never made it to her graduation, and the case had been stuffed away mere months after his death when no one could turn up anything fresh. Nora helped as much as she could, and so did Jo’s older coworker Nick, but the killer was still running rampant and they each had their own cases to attend to. Hell, Jo had a stack she had been neglecting all week.

 

But it was October 23rd.

 

“Why don’t we visit him? Nate’s outside.”

 

She wordlessly nodded, and with Nora’s help she stood, the both of them working to recollect the papers she had thrown. They left the cake in the communal fridge, since they all refused to touch it, and met up with Nate outside hanging by his Jeep.

 

Jo stopped a good two feet away from him, unable to meet his eye. He closed the distance before she could say anything, though, and when his arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace she lost the ability to speak at all.

 

The drive was quiet, other than the sniffles Jo tried to stifle as best she could, and though Nate had often complained about the lack of music stations out on the frontlines his hand never once touched the radio dial.

 

When they arrived at the graveyard, it was alreafy closed for the night--but the gravekeeper would let them in anyway, knowing who they were and why they were there. Wordlessly they drove through the cramped little streets that wove through grave plots until they got to the back, to the newer graves, and when they stepped outside they migrated to a singular tombstone that was slightly off center from its plot. 

 

“Hey pops,” Nate whispered, crouching beside the marble headstone to wipe some dirt from its surface. “We’re here to report…”

 

Jo stared down at the grave in thought as Nate rattled off all sorts of confessions to the coffin buried six feet under. 

 

She wondered, if her hell had been two stories high, was his heaven six feet under?

 

 

Nathan A. Campbell

_ If There Were Ever a Time _

_ When the World was Alright _

_ It was While this Angel _

_ Was Part of It _

 

_ June 2nd 2025 - October 23rd 2071 _

 

 

**X.X.2076 -- 27 Years Old**

 

In the next four years, Jo would decide heaven didn’t exist.

 

But Hell did, and she had mistakenly believed it to be an attic during the summer. 

 

Hell was so much worse. It came in the form of lustful hands on children too young to understand. It came in the form of child slaves and little corpses strewn across the walls as a warning--it came as a man in a suit with eyes too clear to claim insanity.

 

And right now, for Jo, it came in the form of clinking bottles and hangovers and guilt and regret. It came in the headlines that played her up as a saint and condemned her as a killer. It came in so many forms, in so many ways, that she was convinced Hell had been hiding itself under a different alias. “Life”.

 

And she was tired of Life. She was tired of living and hurting. So she numbed it, to forget what she found with Nick when she broke the case. To forget how late she had been for so many victims, to forget that, to some people out there that hadn’t ever felt the flames of hell licking their heels, killing a killer was somehow immoral.

 

Nate had returned from his tour at some point while she had been locked up and under investigation, and both Nick and Nora made sure to catch him up to speed at the time. Jo had found his father’s killer alright, but she had found so much more and the system was doing its best to condemn her for killing the man behind it all.

 

And though Nora defended her tooth and nail-- _ ”She shouldn’t have even been on the case!” , “The man would have been sentenced to death anyway!”-- _ it wasn’t enough until Nate got involved.

 

And when he did, he burst into the police station with such righteous fury Jo thought she was at prom again, with Nathan Sr. coming to her rescue. But Nathan Sr. was dead, and Nate wasn’t about to let the woman that avenged him get punished for it. So he utilized his ties with the army to pull a few favors, and with it he managed to bust Jo out of her cell that night, charges dropped. 

 

The press rioted, but no one was going to challenge a veteran in line for the Medal of Honor. 

 

Which lead to Jo living with Nate and Nora in their little home by the bay, surrounded by officers day and night to keep the press at bay. Jo would drink beer, vodka and whiskey to drown out her thoughts while the reporters screamed at the officers outside. 

 

“It’ll blow over eventually,” Nora soothed, taking a seat beside her intoxicated childhood friend. Her belly had grown quite large the past few months--large enough they had confirmation it was a boy. With all the drama that had been going on, Jo hadn’t really noticed the pregnancy’s progression; Nora should have been on maternity leave, not defending her.

 

“...I’m sorry, Nor,” Jo whispered hoarsely, pain lining her eyes. “Thisss...shhouldn’t be...how yer pergn’ncy…”

 

“Oh don’t worry about me, Jo!” Nora laughed, waving a hand dismissively. It was impossible she didn’t notice Jo’s slurred speech, but she made no comment. Jo always slurred her speech these days. “My life was never meant to be simple--pregnancy included. Besides, I’m sure it’ll all make for an amazing story when Shaun’s older,” her hands went to her belly, tenderly rubbing the bump.

 

“S...ssshaun?” Jo asked, brows furrowing. “Is that...hiss...name?”

 

“Well, we’re still deciding but...I have a good feeling about that one…” Nora laughed a little sheepishly, her cheeks a tinge of pink. “To be honest...we wanted to name him after you--”

 

“Nno,” Jo shook her head, her empty bottle rolling from her grip to the floor with a carpeted thud. “Nno--nnnot af--”

 

“We know, we know,” Nora’s hand reached out for Jo’s and squeezed, despite how clammy the skin was. “And we respect how you feel, so we’re probably going with Shaun--”

 

“You...hafta’ go wit...Sshaun,” Jo slurred out, hiccuping. A few tears had sprung to her eyes as her own grip tightened on Nora. “You  _ haff to-- _ ”

 

The sound of shattering glass cut the conversation short. Nate ran in from down the hall immediately, shouting profanity as his wife’s scream reached his ears. Jo leapt up from the couch, stumbling so she knocked over the side table, breaking the bottles beneath it. 

 

A rock had been launched through their window, shattering it to pieces, and had struck Nora’s thigh. Any higher and it would have hit her stomach, and the realization processed surprisingly fast in Jo’s drunken mind. Nate was already flying out the door to find the culprit, Nora shouting after him “ _ I’m alright Nate! I’m alright!” _ \--but he was already involved with the officers outside. 

 

Jo made her way back to Nora, panic swelling inside her. “Sshan--is---are yoou--?”

 

“I’m fine, Jo, I’m fine--it just hit my thigh--a bruise, that’s all,” she insisted, holding her thigh tenderly. The rock that had hit her laid on the floor, and despite Nora insisting Jo shouldn’t touch it (“ _ Please Jo, leave it there, leave it there for Nate--”)  _ she picked it up anyway.

 

“ _ HELL IS FOR COMMIES” _ .

 

She tried to throw the rock back out the window, but it hit the wall instead and she hit the floor right after.

 

_ The victims had been children. _

 

__ _ Just children with Chinese names _ .


	2. The Long Way Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ No unique triggers outside of the usual Fallout]
> 
> “See? Holding him like a mother yourself,” Nora whispered soothingly, her hand on Jo’s back as they stared down at the bundle. Jo couldn’t respond, too many emotions flooding her as she stared into Shaun’s bright blue eyes.
> 
> She saw a future in there. What kind of future, she couldn’t know--but it’d be a future she’d help build and protect, if she had her way, and for the first time since Nathan died she had found her purpose again. 
> 
> And that purpose would be to protect Shaun, where she had failed so many other children.

In the end, Nate, Nora and Jo all moved from their house towards the northern part of Boston, in a small neighborhood called Sanctuary. The place more or less lived up to its name, with reporters hardly ever showing their faces and neighbors that were polite enough not to bring up the past. Jo thought it felt exceedingly fake, but when one neighbor started offering her Day Tripper for a premium price, she learned very quickly to not care.

 

    If the couple knew about Jo’s growing drug use, they didn’t say anything; Maybe because she had, so far, stuck to a drug that was renown for cheering her up enough to help around the house, now that baby Shaun had come into the world. Jo had to admit, them getting a Mr. Handy robot was a blow to her pride as a helper around the house, but Nora said it was so they could all return to work down the line.

 

    Nora had to quit her old job for a myriad of reasons topped off by their move. Her law degree sat on a shelf in the living room, next to the flag Nate had earned during duty, gathering dust that Jo would brush off whenever she noticed. Nate had plans to go back to civilian duty, though he hadn’t gone through college during his tour and wasn’t planning to anytime soon.

 

    “Corvega said they’d hire me,” he had mentioned one late afternoon weeks prior. “The assembly line. Said they’d give me a pretty high position too, with less physical labor,” he gave a low chuckle. “What do they think I am, an old man?”

 

    “No, just a veteran, hun,” Nora had teased from the sidelines. It had been that same day her water had broken, and Shaun came into the world a grueling eight hours later.

 

    “Mum! Young Shaun simply insists on crying no matter how I tend to him! Perhaps he needs some of that TLC I hear about these days?” Jo glanced over, her memories interrupted by the shiny new robot that came hovering down the hall. Nora was cleaning baby bottles in the kitchen while Nate and Jo sat in the living room lazily watching the news, with coffees that had been “brewed to perfection”, according to the robot.

 

    “Oh, thank you for trying Codsworth,” Nora said with a little smile as she wiped her damp hands on her apron. “I’ll go see if I can cheer the little guy up. Mind finishing the dishes for me?”

 

    Codsworth’s metallic eyes dilated, all three of them, and bobbed ever so slightly in what appeared to be excitement; Jo still wasn’t sure if he was programmed to display emotional gestures for their ease or if the company messed up and gave their robots legitimate AI. “Of course, mum! I’ll have those bottles shining in no time!”

 

    “Thank you dear,” Nora gave one of his eye sockets a peck as she passed, heading for her boy’s room at the end of the hall. He was hardly a month old, but he could sure scream when he wanted his mother.

 

    “Real mamma’s boy, he’s growing up to be,” Nate said with a smile, watching his wife disappear down the hall. “I’m sure glad we got Codsworth when we did though. We’re getting more sleep than most parents this early in,” he laughed, and Jo cracked a smile too.

 

    But a smile was really all she could muster. Her last dose of Day Tripper was melting away into the gnawing abyss in her stomach, and she found herself standing before she had even realized she decided to see her dealer down the way. Nate watched her grab a coat off the rack, along with a hat, with nothing but a slightly raised brow in question.

 

    “I’m not feeling too swell,” she said when they met eyes--and it was the truth, she could feel the gears in her brain slowing down, struggling against the intrusive thoughts the drug had kept at bay. “Going to go for a--”

 

    She stopped once she opened the door because a man was already in front of it. She jumped a little, her nerves already on edge as he eyes processed the man that stood with his fist raised, ready to knock. He jumped back too, his ears reddening as though he had been caught in some terrible act and the reaction made Jo immediately slam the door in his face.

 

    A reporter? Here? They hadn’t been around for months-- _months_ \--and suddenly they were at their doorstep? She could feel herself starting to tremble, air caught in her lungs for so long they burned as she stumbled backwards, away from the door. Nate saw the commotion and was already at her side, his hand at the small of her back as an attempt to reassure her as he glared towards the door.

 

    He thought it was a reporter too.

 

    “Why don’t you go help Nora?” he whispered in Jo’s ear, breath warm and comforting against her now-clammy skin. “I’ll talk to them. Go on,” he gently ushered her towards the hall as a timid knock sounded off the door.

 

    Jo swallowed and nodded, fleeing down the hall before Nate’s hand had even landed on the doorknob.

 

    In Shaun’s room, there was a little jingle playing from the mobile Nate had fixed above his crib. Accompanying it was the soft hum of a lullaby no doubt originating from Nora, who had her back to Jo at the moment as she tickled the now-laughing baby boy. When the door slid shut with a small thud, she finally turned around, and her smile dissipated into a concerned frown at the sight of Jo’s ghostly white face.

 

    “What’s wrong? What happened?” she asked, closing the distance between them immediately. “Jo, what’s wrong?”

 

    “It’s nothing,” she lied, forcing a dry chuckle from her constricted throat. “Just someone at the door. Nate’s got it--how’s...how’s Shaun doing? He looks pretty happy for all that screamin’ he did,” Jo ripped her eyes away from Nora’s and redirected them towards the baby-blue crib, the ghost of a real smile appearing when Shaun looked back at her and gurgled. Nora accepted the topic change and looked towards her son as well, her features softening in ways only a mother’s could.

 

    “He sure does, doesn’t he? All that screaming just to see his mom’s face,” there wasn’t a hint of heat in her tone--it was all love and affection and Jo knew Shaun couldn’t ask for a better mother. Or father, for that matter. “You still haven’t held him, you know,” Nora continued, her hand snaking its way to Jo’s.

 

    “Huh? Oh, uh, well, you know--I just don’t think--”

 

    “Come on,” she whispered, leading Jo towards the crib. “I think now is the perfect time.”

 

    Jo gnawed on her lip, her heart wildly thumping in her chest as they approached the crib. Shaun was still gurgling up a storm, laughing when he made spit bubbles large enough for his little blue eyes to see. It was absolutely gross, but endearing at the same time and Jo began to relax until Nora started to pick Shaun up from his crib.

 

    “I really don’t think I’m ready, Nora…” Jo insisted, a million thoughts flooding her mind. The thought of dropping Shaun, the thought of holding him wrong and somehow--she wasn’t sure _how_ because she never really dealt with infants--would end up breaking his little bones or making him grow not quite right. But Nora didn’t seem to share the same concern, because she was already using one hand to change where Jo’s arms were, prepping her for the challenge.

 

    “You’re absolutely ready, Jo,” she whispered, meeting her eyes long enough to instill some belief in those words. “Now, you hold his head like this…”

 

    And all too soon, Shaun was in Jo’s arms, cradled like a precious package that could never have enough bubble wrap. He was swaddled, but his little arms were loose, jerking once in awhile as his brain tried to adjust to its motor functions.

 

    “See? Holding him like a mother yourself,” Nora whispered soothingly, her hand on Jo’s back as they stared down at the bundle. Jo couldn’t respond, too many emotions flooding her as she stared into Shaun’s bright blue eyes.

 

    She saw a future in there. What kind of future, she couldn’t know--but it’d be a future she’d help build and protect, if she had her way, and for the first time since Nathan died she had found her purpose again.

 

    And that purpose would be to protect Shaun, where she had failed so many other children.

 

    “He has your eyes,” she murmured finally, so soft she didn’t know if Nora had heard her until she gave a small laugh.

 

    “Nate said the same thing,” she said, and the two lapsed back into silence. It was broken moments later by the door sliding back open, and both turned to see Nate standing there, surprise lighting up his eyes when he saw Shaun in Jo’s arms.

 

    “You’re finally holding him? And I wasn’t invited?” He asked, breaking out into a grin. Jo searched his features for signs of distress--for signs of “ _We’re moving again_ ”--but she found none. Nora was the one to voice her concern, her hand leaving Jo’s back as she walked towards her husband.

 

    “Who was that at the door?” she asked, her voice steeled enough for both of them to know she was ready to fight. Nate laughed again, reaching over to brush some hair from Nora’s face.

 

    “Just a Vault-Tec representative. Same one that has been bothering us for a while now.”

 

    “Vault-Tec?” Jo asked, tilting her head slightly. She hadn’t ever seen Vault-Tec at their house before, yet he spoke as if they had come all too often.

 

    “You’re usually on your walks when they happen to come by,” Nora said, looking over her shoulder towards Jo. “Glad, too, because that man just gets on a person’s nerves. Did you tell him to go away and not come back?” she turned back to Nate who shrugged.

 

    “I decided to just go through with it and sign the papers. I mean, it wasn’t a lot to sign and a little extra security is never a bad thing,” he said, and Nora sighed because, well, he was right. “I’d do anything for my little family, after all.”

 

    “So you guys have a spot in the Vault then? The one up the hill?” Jo asked, walking over to Nate. She offered him Shaun, since the baby was starting to get a little antsy with his dad in the room, and Nate accepted naturally.

 

    “Yeah, all of us do. Well, except Codsworth, but that’s a given,” he said before sticking his tongue out at his son, who giggled in response.

 

    “W...wait, even me?” Jo was shocked--she wasn’t part of their family, not by law or DNA, but Nate gave her a look that made her seem like her question was crazier than it was.

 

    “Of course Jo. You think we’d leave you behind? To be honest, I had talked to the guy last week when you and Nora were out shopping, and it took some bargaining but I got you in. That’s why he came back today.”

 

    “You didn’t tell me that!” Nora exclaimed, almost offended by the omission of information. Nate just laughed again, bouncing his baby in his arms.

 

    “Because if I even mention Vault-Tec, your face gets all red,” he teased, winking at her. And sure enough, her cheeks _were_ turning pink, and Jo couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. She had forgotten about her Day Tripper in that moment--sometimes, Nate, Nora and Shaun were enough.

 

    “Anyway,” Nate continued. “I was thinking we could all go to the park later? We haven’t used that stroller yet, and it’s a beautiful day outside.”

 

    “Really? I was kind of thinking about carving pump--”

 

    “ _Mum?! Sir?! You...you need to come see this_!”

 

    “Codsworth?” Nate called out, craning his neck to see down the hallway. “Codsworth, what’s wrong?”

 

    The three of them started for the living room just in time to hear the television’s announcement. The news that Nate and Jo had been watching with such disinterest was now flickering in and out, the anchorman unable to make eye contact with the camera as he read off his reports in a low, uncertain voice.

 

    “Followed by...yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions...We’re...we’re trying to get confirmation…But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations...”

 

    “Oh no…” Nate murmured, and Jo suddenly remember their conversation so many years ago about buttons and accidents.

 

    “What are they talking about? Nate, what are they--?” Nora asked, her voice a pitch higher as panic began to take hold.

 

    “We do have...coming in...confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonation in New York and Pennsylvania. My God…”

 

    In shocked silence they watched the TV flicker again, the image changing to the “Please Stand By” warning they had all learned about in school.

 

    “...the Vault. We have to get to the Vault,” Nate suddenly said, his voice hard enough that Jo could easily see him back in his army fatigues. “Leave everything--we don’t have time, we need to get going.”

 

    “Be safe, sir!” Codsworth said, whatever program that emulated his voice sounding strained. Jo felt bad, then, for running out the door with her friends for safety while the robot waited for his demise, but as Nate had said--there was no time. Not even for proper farewells.

 

    The street was already crowded with neighbors trying to make their way to the Vault or wherever they had made plans for in case this nightmare unfolded. A child cried on the corner with his mother who seemed to be frantically searching for someone else, most likely the father. The lesbian couple that had only just moved in held each other on the sidewalk, sobbing in defeat as another man screamed at his wife for trying to repack the suitcase she had dropped.

 

    It was chaos--the military was even there, blocking the road out to usher people towards the Vault on the hill, across the small wooden bridge over the creek that Jo had, just yesterday, sat on with a bottle of pills. A vertibird’s choppers almost deafened her ears as it flew overhead, making it hard to hear anything as they neared the crowd gathering by the fenceline ahead.

 

    A sergeant stood in the way with a clipboard, a man in some model of power armor backing him up with a minigun at the ready. A mini gun, aimed at the desperate civilians that screamed for entry to the Vault just yards away. In the crowd Jo recognized the man from hardly half an hour ago--the Vault-Tec Representative that had ensured their place in the Vault just in time.

 

    “You can’t do this! I AM Vault-Tec--I’m going in!” he stammered his words, his voice unsuited for authority. The man with the mingun seemed to think the same thing, as he revved up the gun’s chambers as a warning. The representative immediately backed off, along with a good portion of the crowd, hands in the air.

 

    “Ok, ok, I’m leaving--but Vault-Tec will hear about this!” he weakly threatened before turning around to hightail it out of there. He bumped into Jo on his way out, stumbling so he fell to his knees for a brief moment. She went to help him up, but Nate had grabbed her arm before she could and they were soon taking his place in front of the sergeant with the clipboard.

 

    “Campbell and Sawyer--one man, two women, one infant,” Nate reported, with Shaun still cradled in one arm. Nora stood slightly behind them, eyes darting around in fear, aimed towards the sky more often than anywhere else.

 

    The sergeant looked at his clipboard for a moment, tapping his pen against the wood as if this were another Tuesday before nodding, jerking his head towards the man with the minigun so he stepped aside.

 

    “Confirmed. Good luck sir, and my God help us all” he replied, and Nate only nodded before making sure Nora and Jo were ready to follow. As Vault-Tec Security stepped into view to lead their family to safety, Nora looked back to the crowd still gathered behind the fence.

 

    “What’s going to happen to all those people?” she asked, her voice wavering.

 

    “We’re doing everything we can, now keep moving!” the man ahead of them shouted, and that was enough for Nora to go quiet. Jo reached for her hand, just as Nora had done for her so many times before, and whispered “ _Don’t look back”_ when she saw the tears in Nora’s eyes.

 

    Leaving people behind wasn’t in their nature, but there wasn’t enough time to find an alternative.

 

    “Up on the platform--stand in the center!” the man continued as the Vault came into view. Nate ushered them along as security branched off to continue working elsewhere, coaxing his wife and childhood friend to stand on the circular platform that was painted the same shade of blue as Shaun’s crib back home, except with a bright yellow gear-shaped outline in the center.

 

    They weren’t alone, but there weren’t nearly as many people standing with them as they had expected. In fact ,there were only five of their neighbors there, making for a total of nine, counting Shaun.

 

    The Ables and Whitfields were there. And so was Mr. Russell--did he have a wife? Jo couldn’t remember. She hoped he didn’t, because she doubted she’d already be inside. But there was no time to ask Nate or Nora--no time to say anything at all as the officers around them shouted to start sending the platform down right before the sky lit up as though God himself had sent down the sun.

 

    “ _Oh my God!”_

 

    Jo didn’t know who screamed those three words. Maybe it was Nate, maybe it was Nora, maybe it was Shaun’s first words--his potential last. She didn’t know, because all she knew was the bright light in the distance, the swelling cloud she had only seen in educational tapes and comic books that took the same shape as the mushrooms that grew by the creek.

 

    It was so loud, there were so many shouts and screams--Jo tried to say something but she couldn’t hear herself, not even in her own head as the platform lurched to life below her, almost knocking her off her feet. She heard someone screaming to send it down faster, she thought, as they began to descend so painfully slow into the Vault.

 

    She felt the heat of God’s sun above her as they sunk, as the blast burned the surface where they had been just moments before.

 

    And then God was gone, because the Vault sealed shut, and the only light left came in the form of small floodlights flickering by as they descended, the only sound reaching her ears being her own racing heart, her gasping breaths, and the shrill screams of the baby boy in Nate’s arms.

 

    No one said a word. There was nothing to say. The world had pushed the button, and as far as they knew, everyone they had passed on the way to this Vault had been incinerated. For a brief moment he mind went to specific faces--to her father’s face behind jail, to her mother, wherever she had been sent (internment camp--she was surely at an internment camp--) to Nick Valetine to the Vault-Tec rep--

 

    No. She stopped. She stopped thinking, shut down and shut it out. She was good at that, if nothing else, after so many years. She was too aware what would happen if she said their names, thought of their faces, mentally gazed into their eyes.

 

    She’d break.

 

    The platform came to a screeching halt at the bottom, a noise that Jo would have complained about, if it hadn’t followed the sound of the world ending. Metal screeching against metal was preferable, almost soothing to her as the front gates holding them together on the platform opened up, two men in Vault-Tec gear standing to greet them.

 

    The one in front was in the same security gear as the man that had lead them there, and while he wasn’t smiling the man behind him with a clipboard certainly was. Smiling. As though they had arrived to their vacation resort instead of their nuclear bunker.

 

    Jo felt sick.

 

    “Everyone please step off the elevator and proceed up the stairs in an orderly fashion,” the security officer ordered, motioning to a set of stairs to his left that lead to the innards of the Vault.

 

    The smiling man spoke right after, consoling their group with “No need to worry, folks! We’ll get everyone situated in your new home. Vault 111! A better future. Underground!”

 

    Jo felt acid in the back of her throat as a direct response to the sugar-coated words, as though they sparked up indigestion. The audacity to look at them like that, like esteemed guests in a perfect world, set Jo’s chest on fire.

 

    She had never wanted to knock someone’s teeth out so bad.

 

    Mr. Able, somewhere to her side, started to dwell on their barely escaped demise, but the smiling man quelled his thoughts and ushered them up the stairs instead. It took a look from Nate and the feeling of Nora’s fingers tightening around Jo’s hand for her to realize she hadn’t begun following everyone else into the Vault.

 

    “Right, sorry,” she apologized, stumbling off the platform with Nate and Nora. They humbly shuffled behind the other survivors up the metallic stairs, their footsteps echoing off the also-metallic walls. Everything was metal, every damn thing, and Jo suddenly missed her creek and the trees.

 

    “We did, we’re safe,” Nate reassured as they walked past more men in blue suits with clipboards, through scanners she assumed were for radiation. She didn’t hear what the blue men rattled on about as they shuffled along, but she heard a deceptively smooth female voice say “Welcome Home” over the intercoms.

 

    Eventually they were faced with a young Black woman holding out sealed plastic bags with their own blue Vault suits inside. Jo took one for herself, while Nora picked up two since Nate was still holding Shaun. The plastic felt foreign in Jo’s hands, and crinkled when she applied pressure.

 

    “Go on ahead and follow the doctor here--he’ll show you where to go,” the woman instructed with a smile. Jo couldn’t smile back, her tired eyes drifting to the doctor waiting for them.

 

    At least he wasn’t wearing blue, but lab coats were hardly comforting.

 

    “All right you four, follow me.”

 

    And they did. They mindlessly followed him into the bowels of the Vault while he chattered about protocol, surely as a way to distract them. He assured them they’d love it in the Vault, that it was exceptionally advanced even in comparison to other Vaults. Nate whispered to Shaun as they walked that everything would be ok, though Jo knew it was more for himself than an infant that been born only a month before the world’s end.

 

    While at first Jo was irritated by the Doctor’s rambling, she began to appreciate it when she found she could focus on his words instead of her nearby neighbors concerns of their family down in D.C.

 

    Nora’s dad had been down in D.C. Mr. Sue.

 

    She heard Nora let out a choked sob, because she had heard the neighbors over the Doctor and all Jo could do was squeeze her hand until her knuckles went white because Jo was never one to lie. She couldn’t say if Mr. Sue had made it or not.

 

    Nora sobbed another minute before pulling herself together, just in time to step into the next room.

 

    “How long do you think we’ll be down here?” Nate asked, already thinking ahead.

 

    “Oh, we’ll be going over all that in orientation. Just a few medical items we have to get through first,” the Doctor replied, almost dismissively. Jo wondered if _he_ even knew how long they’d be down there--but she didn’t press the issue, and neither did Nate.

 

    The new room they had entered was significantly colder than the other parts of the Vault they had seen, with frost covering the various Pods that lined each side of the room. It wasn’t so cold that everything was frozen, however, and so they could hear the sound of dripping water hitting the floor from all sides. It was soothing, almost, to hear water again.

 

    Other residents were changing into their suits all around them--Mr. Callahan, Jo recognized, was chattering hopefully with a Vault-Tec worker about the suit’s design and level of comfort. It made Jo squeeze her own still-wrapped suit a little tighter, her feeling on wearing it still uncertain.

 

    The Doctor lead them to the end of the room to the last of the pods, stopping to face them with a gentle smile.

 

    “Alright, I’ll need you to change into your Vault suits before stepping into our Decontamination Pods. We need to go through this process before we can go further into the Vault, but I assure you, it won’t take very long at all.”

 

    Jo side-eyed the pod that seemed to be for her, wondering why the pods were drenched in ice-cold water. It wasn’t particularly inviting, to say the least--it’d soak right through this new suit, wouldn’t it?

 

   “I-I’m sorry Nate, I can’t--I can’t hold Shaun right now my...my arms…” Jo turned to see Nate and Nora standing a foot away by their own pods, Nora’s face wet with tears as she held her shaking hands out. Nate gave her a gentle smile, reaching out to hold one of her hands while he bounced Shaun in his other arm.

 

    “It’s ok hun, it’s ok...we’re alright...go ahead and change into your suit, ok? I’ll be right next to you, and Jo will be right across from the both of us,” he whispered, as patient as ever as Nora tried to recompose herself.

 

    “Right, you’re right, I’m s-sorry. H-how’s my b-baby boy, huh?” she cooed to her son, a broken laugh escaping her lips when he smiled up at her. “S-such a s-strong boy, just like your daddy...y-you be good, alright?”

 

    With a sniff she stepped back, taking a deep breathe to even herself out before she began to unwrap her suit. Nate looked over to Jo with an apologetic look, motioning to Shaun.

 

    “Hey, Jo, I know you don’t like holding him but...I need to change and I don’t want to hand him to a stranger…”

 

    “It’s no problem,” Jo replied, her own voice sounding alien in her head with the way it bounced off the walls. “I can...I can hold the little guy while you two change. It’s just for a minute,” she tried to smile, but she didn’t think she succeeded.

 

    “Thank you Jo, I mean it,” Nate said with a sigh of relief, gently handing Shaun over to her waiting arms. Jo nodded, holding Shaun close as she turned away to give the two as much privacy as she could in a room full of people.

 

    She chose to focus on Shaun in the meantime, noting the confusion on the little boy’s face as his undeveloped mind tried to assess the situation. Jo tried smiling again and was thankful she pulled it off enough for Shaun to gurgle happily back, his chubby hands reaching for her face.

 

    “Hey little guy...little pal…” she whispered hoarsely as his hand touched her cheek. His hand felt cool against her heated skin. “You sure came into this world during crazy times, huh? But it’s gonna...it’s gonna be ok,” her voice cracked. “You got your mamma and papa here with you, alright? And...and aunt Jo won’t let anything happen, yeah?”

 

    Shaun continued to spit and giggle, absolutely ecstatic that someone was babbling back to him. It brought a real smile to Jo’s face this time, and she let out a chuckle with a shake of her head.

 

    “Yeah...you’ll be fine,” she murmured before feeling a hand on her shoulder. It was Nate, and he looked relieved to see Jo’s interactions with his son.

 

    “I can take him back so you can get ready,” he said, reaching out for Shaun. Jo almost didn’t want to let go, a stark contrast to earlier that day, but she let the father have his son back and she turned to open up her suit as Nate and Nora began to step into their pods.

 

    She changed quickly, partly because she didn’t want to hold things up and partly because the room was a lot colder in her underwear. After zipping up the front, she took a moment to look down at herself, at the blue fabric lined with gold that somehow was a perfect fit. Did they have their sizes beforehand, somehow?

 

    “Just step into the pod when you’re ready,” the Doctor, still standing on the sidelines, reminded her. She glanced to him, giving him a silent nod before looking around the room one last time.

 

    She could see the last few residents making their way to the decontamination room, clinging to their packaged suits as another doctor chattered away like theirs had. She could see a few neighbors already in their pods, undergoing whatever decontamination process that had to be done, their eyes shut almost peacefully as the small windows to their pods began to frost over.

 

    It’d be cold, then, this process. She watched until Nate and Shaun’s faces disappeared behind the frost, hoping Shaun’s little blanket would provide enough warmth for him.

 

    “...a new future, huh?” Jo murmured as she put her foot into her pod. “...underground.”

 

    She situated herself as comfortably as she could, pleased to find the suit was at least partially water-resistant when she didn’t feel cold immediately seep through to her butt. She leaned back, steadying her breath as the front door to her pod closed shut, lowering itself from above.

 

    She saw the Doctor’s face appear in her little window, his words muffled through the door. “The pod will decontaminate and decompressurize you before we head deeper into the Vault. Just relax.”

 

    Jo tried to do as he said. She kept her breath as even as possible, tried to calm her heart as best she could as that familiar female voice spoke from the speakers.

 

    “Residen secure. Occupant vitals: Normal.”

 

    They didn’t feel normal. The cold was seeping through now, to her whole body. It was so impossibly cold--how cold would it get? Would Shaun be alright? Would he get frostbite?

 

    She tried to look at her own fingers, but she couldn’t move. Her body was too heavy, far too heavy and for a brief moment her breathing hitched. The voice came back.

 

    “Procedure complete in five…”

 

    She focused on Nate’s pod in front of her. She tried to imagine Shaun in his arms, tried to remember the smile he had shared with her while in her own.

 

    “Four…”

 

    She thought of Nate, and how quickly he had answered the door when Jo had expected the worst of her past to be behind it.

 

    “Three…”

 

    She thought about how that visitor, that Vault-Tec Representative that had dogged Nora for so long, saved their lives not half an hour later.

 

    “Two…”

 

    She thought about how that man was most likely dead.

 

    “One…”

 

    And then she didn’t think about much at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we goooo. Sorry for taking you through the start of the game and all that, but it is what it is. I used more dialogue from the game for this, since I always enjoyed the television dialogue and the Vault-Tec dialogue once inside. But I won't be using exact dialogue through most of this fic, to keep it fresh.


	3. Thank You for Choosing Vault-Tek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Goddammit,” the man said, ignoring Jo’s screams and attempts to break free. He sounded only mildly perturbed at the turn of events, holding his pistol towards the ceiling now. “Get the kid out of here, and let’s go.”
> 
> The woman obeyed, disappearing from Jo’s vision entirely. But the man didn’t leave with her, not immediately. Instead he finally turned around to face Jo’s pod, walking over so he could peer inside at her tear-stained face and her bloody hand.
> 
> And he smiled. 
> 
> “At least we still have the backup.”
> 
> Jo let out another scream, but it didn’t matter. He had already turned away to follow after his partner, and there wasn’t a single thing Jo could do to stop them. Shaun’s wailing began to fade away and in its place Jo heard a familiar voice from the speakers.
> 
> “Cryogenic sequence reinitialized.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo has a themesong now: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1j2LoW3P14
> 
> And also a concept headshot: http://pinkablu.deviantart.com/art/Jo-Sawyer-Headshots-684509312
> 
> No unique triggers other than people dying as per usual.

“ _ Manual override initiated. Cryogenic stasis suspended. _ ”

 

Jo had lost consciousness. That’s the first thing that came to mind as her body began to, quite literally, thaw itself out. She had gotten so cold she just couldn’t feel it anymore. Not at the moment, at least, as she tried to move her fingers.

 

They twitched at her sides, the blood slowly returning to them. The tingled, as though she had slept on them wrong for a night--but how long had she lost consciousness? Was that normal for the procedure?

And how was Shaun? And Nora? And Nate?

 

As her breathing got heavier with concern she managed to pry her eyes open, their lids heavy from the cold and exhaustion. While she tried to focus her vision to see past the thawing glass window, she heard a voice. 

 

“This is the one. Here.”

 

The voice was female, but didn’t belong to anyone she could recognize. Granted, she hadn’t memorized every Vault worker’s voice yet, with the whole world-ending and all, but she had a sinking feeling this voice hadn’t belonged to any of them anyhow.

 

Its owner was outside Nate’s pod, Jo realized, once her window had thawed enough to see. Although clearly female, there were no other distinguishable features to pick out--the woman was fully clad in a hazmat suit from head to toe, pointing to Nate’s pod with a heavily gloved hand.

 

A brief moment later, a second person passed by Jo’s vision. This time it was a man, and unlike the woman he wore no hazmat suit to cover his identity. But Jo couldn’t get a good look at his face either way, as his attention was focused solely on Nate’s pod.

 

“Open it.”

 

His voice wasn’t familiar either--and he didn’t wear the Vault’s signature blue suit. A sense of unease began to take hold of Jo, but she choked it down in hopes that this was all just part of the procedure. That everything would be okay.

 

With a hiss Nate’s pod door lifted upwards, a cloud of water vapor rolling out before dissipating. Nate began to cough in his seat, his throat no doubt dry from his sleep. Shaun, however, immediately began to wail and the dangers of frostbite sprung back into Jo’s mind.

 

“He...needs a...hospital,” Jo choked out, hoping they could hear her. That they would take care of her best friend’s infant. Her hand weakly made its way to the glass holding her back, her fingers leaving a trail in the dew.

 

But no one outside seemed to hear her, and soon it was Nate’s voice that reached Jo’s ears.

 

“Is it over?” he asked, squinting as his eyes readjusted to the dim lighting of the decontamination room. “Are we okay?”

 

“Almost. Everything’s going to be fine,” it was the other man that replied to Nate, one hand half-stretched out as though to calm the father. Despite his words, Jo’s sense of unease steadily began to grow, and her fingers began to curl over the glass.

 

“Come here...come here, little one…” Jo heard the female coo as she reached for the baby. Before Jo could whisper “ _ don’t! _ ”, Nate had begun to struggle against her, his eyes now fully opened as his grip tightened on Shaun.

 

“No, wait, I’ve got him! I can hold him!” Nate argued back, his voice rising as his throat began to clear. 

 

To Jo’s left, she saw the man lift a gun-- _ a gun-- _ until it was level with Nate’s head. Jo’s hand suddenly lashed out, hitting the glass with no more than a muffled thud.

 

“Let the boy go,” the man spoke, his voice dangerously even. She’d heard that tone so many times before. It was the tone her father used when he spoke to her. “I’m only gonna tell you once.”

 

“ _ No-- _ ” she choked out, bringing her fist back. “ _ No, God, please-- _ ”

 

“I’m not giving you Shaun!” Nate roared, pulling harder against the woman’s hold. “I’m not giving you my boy!”

 

True to his word, the man only asked once. Despite the thick door to Jo’s pod, she heard the gunfire as though it had gone off in her ear, its echoes dying on the walls that surrounded her. Nate body lurched back, his grip going slack so the woman could take Shaun into her arms. 

 

Jo felt a different kind of cold now. The kind of cold she hadn’t experienced since Nate’s father took a bullet for a kid he couldn’t save, on a case she had broken too late.

 

Her fist his the glass again, hard enough to hurt if she had any senses left. She heard a scream--a terrible scream full of agony that came from her own lips as her fist drew back again. She hit the glass over and over and over, but it just wouldn’t break, her nails digging deep into the palm of her hand until she wasn’t sure if it was water or blood running down her wrist.

 

“Goddammit,” the man said, ignoring Jo’s screams and attempts to break free. He sounded only mildly perturbed at the turn of events, holding his pistol towards the ceiling now. “Get the kid out of here, and let’s go.”

 

The woman obeyed, disappearing from Jo’s vision entirely. But the man didn’t leave with her, not immediately. Instead he finally turned around to face Jo’s pod, walking over so he could peer inside at her tear-stained face and her bloody hand.

 

He was mostly bald but still had facial hair, his eyes too dark to be a color. Over his left eye was a long scar ages-old, a second barely visible to the right of it.

 

But most importantly, he was smiling.

 

“At least we still have the backup.”

 

Jo let out another scream, but it didn’t matter. He had already turned away to follow after his partner, and there wasn’t a single thing Jo could do to stop them. Shaun’s wailing began to fade away and in its place Jo heard a familiar voice from the speakers.

 

“ _ Cryogenic sequence reinitialized _ .”

 

The cold began to take over again, the glass fogging over just as it had the first time. Jo leaned forward, her forehead hitting the glass with a thud as she tried to keep sight of Nate on the other side. 

 

Nate’s corpse.

 

She fought for as long as she could against the cold, but her body began to succumb, her blood freezing on the window beneath her wrist. 

 

And then she was gone.

 

\---

 

She started coughing before she was even conscious, and the Vault’s voice reached her before she had even opened her eyes.

 

“ _ Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault Residents must vacate immediately.” _

 

Jo coughed again, moving her head back so she could cover her mouth. She felt resistance as she moved away from the glass, but didn’t think much of it as her pod began to hiss all around her. As the door to her pod began to lift, memories of the intruders and Nate flooded back to her mind.

 

“ _ Nate _ ,” she gasped, lurching from her seat before the door was even fully removed. She slipped on water below and fell to all fours, though she didn’t feel any pain. The water that covered the floor began to turn red, but she ignored it and began to crawl towards Nate’s pod.

 

“No no no, it was a dream, it was a dream,” she repeated to herself, her chest tight as she used the pod to pull herself back up to standing position. She pressed her face against the glass, trying to see past the fog to no avail. She cursed and pulled back, a large smudge of blood lingering where her forehead had been.

 

She looked around desperately until her eyes landed on the small control console to the right of Nate’s pod. She slammed the big red button on the bottom, Nate’s pod hissing to life a brief second later.

 

“Come on come on,” she was nearly shouting the words, as though they would make the device open faster. She could see Nate’s blue-clad legs, and she felt something warm drip down her face. “ _ Come on-- _ ”

 

Finally the door completed its journey, revealing the body of Nathan Jr. Campbell inside. His body was tilted all wrong, with limbs too limp and--

 

“ _ No _ ,” Jo reached out for him, for his hands that didn’t seem to thaw quite right with how cold they still were. Her tears felt unnaturally hot against her cheeks as they began to spill over, her eyes glued to the gaping hole in her friend’s forehead.

 

“God, no, not now,” she babbled, her nails digging into his frozen skin. “Please Nate, come on, no, not now--you can’t leave me--us--now--”

 

Us. That’s right. Nora was still in her pod--had she seen what had happened? 

 

Was she alright?

 

It took all of Jo’s strength to pry herself from Nate’s thawing corpse to stumble toward’s Nora’s pod instead, her fist slamming the button on her console. Why had only Jo’s pod opened itself? Why were the rest manual?

 

She watched it swing open until Nora came into sight, and at first Jo felt a flood of relief when no bullet holes marred her body. But when she reached out for Nora, she stopped inches away, her eyes staring at the young woman’s face for any traces of the life it once held.

 

There were none.

 

Her hand dropped back to her side, a wail escaping her lips as she collapsed to the ground. Nora looked like she was sleeping, but God, Jo knew better than that. It had only taken moments for her and Nate to wake up and start coughing, but Nora…

 

Nora wasn’t even breathing. 

 

“Why?” Jo wailed, her arms limp at her sides, her knees bruised from the concrete below. “Why would anyone do this? Why would Vault-Tec--?”

 

Her head fell so her chin hit her chest, her body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. Through her bleary vision she watched droplets of blood mix with her tears on the floor, and she slowly began to realize the glass of her pod had ripped off enough layers of skin from her forehead to cause bleeding.

 

Her hand was still bleeding, too, and as she stared down at the blood covering it she was reminded of red paint.

 

“Is anyone--?” she whispered, looking down the dark, damp hallway she sat in. “...anyone at all?”

 

Where she mustered the strength to stand, she’d never know, but one by one she peered into the pods in hopes that someone,  _ anyone _ had made it out alive with her. But not a single one did, and only a couple of them were even able to open when she slammed their console buttons. 

 

The Whitfields, the Ables. Mr. Russel and the Callahan’s--each and every one of her neighbors was a thawing corpse behind glass, confirmed by the computer terminal at the end of the hall that Jo checked out of desperation

 

They had all suffocated to death.

 

Except her.

 

But it sure felt like she was suffocating now.

 

“This is a joke,” she whispered, her voice dripping with bitterness and denial. “A joke, some sick fucking joke Vault-Tec is pulling…”

 

But when she stood back in front of Nate and Nora’s pods, her forehead still dripping blood down her face, she knew it wasn’t a joke because there wasn’t a punchline. Just a punch to the gut, when she realized Shaun was still missing.

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” she hissed, bringing one hand to wipe the blood and tears away. It came back wet and red. “I don’t...I don’t under...stand….” 

 

She looked back to the Campbell couple because she didn’t know where else to look. There wasn’t a single human being with a beating heart to answer her questions in that room, just the sound of dripping water that she had, sometime before, found soothing.

 

Now it just haunted her.

 

She reached out for Nate’s corpse again, gently laying her hand on his as she tried to avoid sight of the hole in his head. Her thumb brushed over his knuckles a few times before her fingers slipped down to his wedding ring.

 

It took a few tries, but she managed to slip the band off eventually. She rolled the ring around the palm of her hand, squinting at the cursive that lined the inside.

 

“A Promise to Return, a Promise to Wed” was engraved there, and Jo held back a sob as she moved to Nora’s pod next. With the time it had taken to get Nate’s ring off, and since Nora’s fingers were so slender to begin with, her ring came off the first try and Jo peered down at it to read its engravement.

 

“ _ A Promise Kept _ ”. 

 

She almost dropped the rings as her body threatened to be overcome by emotion once more, but she didn’t dare let them go and instead slipped them each onto both of her index fingers for safekeeping. 

 

And then she looked back to the couple that had been such a central part of her life once last time, her voice too even for wanting to fall apart then and there.

 

“I’ll find your boy,” she said, to no one that could hear her. “I’ll find your boy, then I’ll meet back up with you, alright? So...don’t wait up, I guess.”

 

She stared at them a few moments longer before slamming her fist against their console buttons, leaving before the pod doors had even sealed shut.

 

Jo hadn’t really expected anyone else to be around, but walking down Vault 111’s empty corridors when it felt like just minutes ago they had been bustling with life was just another reminder how alone she was. Skeletons without so much as a flake of skin on them lying around corners in the shadows, their jaws open in a silent scream.

 

Jo’s scream hadn’t been so quiet when she saw a giant outline on a window to her left though, a skittering noise following right after. She couldn’t see into the dark room the shape had disappeared into, but she could have sworn the thing had antenna. 

 

She hated bugs. 

 

But how did they get so big?

 

She decided it was best to cross that bridge when she got to it, since there seemed to be no entry to the room at the moment (which meant whatever she had seen couldn’t easily get to her, either). Instead she decided to turn around and head right, into a small office with an overly cheerful Vault Boy poster on the wall that, fittingly, encouraged bug extermination. 

 

To its right was a desk with a terminal patiently waiting on top, green letters blinking across its screen. After a moment of reading Jo came to realize it had free-to-access files that could lend a helping hand in figuring out the current situation. So she pulled back the creaky office chair and took a reluctant seat, a cloud of dust springing forth from its worn-down cushioning.

 

She turned her attention to the terminal once more, and began to browse through the files.

 

VAULT 111 SECURITY INSTRUCTIONS

 

_ Vault 111 is designed to test the long-term effects of suspended animation on unaware, human subjects. _

 

Jo took a shaky breath, eyes closing as the word “cryogenic” played on repeat in her head. Yeah, the intercom had said something about cryogenic stasis--but it hadn’t quite sunk in.

 

But if she had really been cryogenically frozen, how long had it been since she fell asleep? 

 

How long had it been since she woke up the  _ first _ time?

 

She opened her eyes and continued to read through the files--the protocol for Vault-Tec staff members and how deviating from their assigned duties would be considered a capital offense. Which meant the law was in on it, and Jo wondered how Nora would have felt to find such a thing out.

 

From there she opened the logs titled “Operations Protocol Manual” and “Staff Duties” to get a better understanding of what would qualify as a “capital offense”. She was horrified to find that it basically meant they couldn’t wake any of the residents up from their sleep  _ unless greater than eighty percent of the population had already perished during the experiment _ .

 

Eighty percent. That was a staggering statistic, and Jo wanted to be sick. Vault-Tec had lost much more than eighty percent of their experiment’s population.

 

They had lost ninety-nine. 

 

Next she scrolled through a log titled “All Clear & Evacuation”, reading up on how the Vault was meant to receive an all-clear notice once conditions on the surface were deemed safe enough. Strangely enough, the personnel weren’t to speak with anyone not affiliated with Vault-Tec,  _ including _ the government and military. It made Jo wonder who the hell Vault-Tek WAS affiliated with, if not the goddamn U.S government. 

 

The more immediately worrying information was the fact Vault 111 was only supposed to be shut a maximum of 180 days--or at least, 180 days was when the Overseer was allowed to evacuate without an all-clear. And while 180 days sounded long, the skeletons in the hallways hinted to much longer, and Jo wasn’t sure if she was ready to find out just how far in the future she had woken up in.

 

The rest of the logs were personal entries from a Vault-Tec staff member, starting from the day Jo and the others were put on ice to the Vault’s eventual revolt against an Overseer that refused to open the Vault despite running out of supplies. How the revolt went wasn’t recorded, but Jo guessed it didn’t matter much now, with everyone long dead and gone.

 

She powered down the terminal and took a deep breath, momentarily processing all the information she had gathered thus far before deciding right then and there wasn’t the best time to dwell on it. The chair groaned when stood, and she made her way back into the hallway.

 

There was only one other door she could go through, so she started down yet another hallway until she reached a second door that hissed open to reveal a room all too similar to the rest of the Vault. 

 

Except this time something was moving in the shadows ahead, and Jo found herself frozen in place when her eyes caught sight of two long antennae. The skittering noise had returned, along with a sort of screech not unlike rubber rubbing against rubber.

 

It didn’t take long for the sound’s owner to have notice Jo standing in the doorway, and the screeching escalated as it darted towards her. She stumbled back, unable to get a clear view of the creature until the door she had walked through suddenly sealed itself with a  _ crunch _ .

 

When she had mustered up enough courage to approach, she felt her stomach lurch so fast she began to dry heave, one hand reaching out for a wall to brace herself against. The creature was, in fact, a giant insect--a giant  _ cockroach _ that was easily the length of her shin. It twitched as the door lifted back up, though it’s carapace had been cleanly split in two, with a sickly green-yellow liquid oozing from its body. 

 

Jo was thankful she hadn’t eaten before being put on ice, because she was sure she would have vomited on the spot. Insects were a fear she had never quite gotten over, though it was easy enough to ignore when you had a war veteran with a shoe and a lawyer with bug spray to aid you. Not to mention the bugs that had scared Jo so badly in the past were incredibly small compared to the roach carcass in the doorway.

 

“Why fu-fucking  _ bugs _ ?” she hissed, practically pressing herself to the corner as she passed through the door frame around the insect. 

 

_ That would make for a good food source, actually. _

 

Jo whipped herself around fast enough she nearly fell over, her hand catching against a metal table under a window. She could have sworn she heard Nate’s voice, clear as day, in her ear--but there was no one there but the bug. 

 

That didn’t stop Nate from continuing.

 

_ Insects are a good source of protein, remember? I tried to tell you how I ate them in the army, but you got too grossed out to listen.  _

 

“I would never eat a bug,” she whispered, her heart beating painfully in her chest. 

 

Nate’s voice didn’t answer her. No one did, because no one was there to, and Jo found herself trembling in despair at the realization she was indulging voices in her head.

 

_ It’s par for the course doll. I heard Jennifer’s for weeks. _

 

It was Nick this time, and Jo slammed her fist against the metal table to drown out his words. Something began to roll across its surface, hitting the floor with a metallic clank a few seconds later.

 

She jumped back in surprise, squinting into the darkness until she found the source of the noise. It was a black police baton, already extended out from its fall to the ground. Timidly she reached for it, finding comfort in its familiar shape as she ran her fingers along its length. 

 

_ That’s my girl. _

 

Jo didn’t reply as she made her way into the mess hall ahead.

 

The mess hall was, to put it simply,  _ a mess _ . There were beer bottles strewn across the tables, floor and counters, some broken and others intact. Unfortunately, she didn’t find a single one unopened, but she counted her blessing when she discovered the sinks were still working and that there was enough plastic waste lying around to cork a couple of bottles full of water. 

 

Her next problem was finding a way to hold them all. There were plenty of boxes around, but most were covered in mildew, with the cardboard disintegrating against her fingers. So she lined her bottles along the counter before heading into the room that split off from the mess hall--the Vault’s sleeping quarters, by the looks of it. 

 

Dismayed to find there weren’t any bedsheets left behind, Jo began to scrounge through the room until she found an old cardboard box that was surprisingly dry, given the conditions, and durable enough to hold her bottles and then some. She brought it back to the mess hall, delicately placing the bottles inside before turning her attention to the desk and terminal she had purposefully been ignoring since she had entered.

 

Reluctantly she took a seat in front of it, watching the Vault-Tek text run its course before displaying the logs inside. Having fully expected more horror stories, Jo was pleasantly surprised to find it was a gaming terminal instead, with a little warning from the Overseer to prioritize their duties over high scores.

 

_ Oh, is that Red Menace? I love Red Menace! _

 

“I know, Nora,” she murmured, scrolling down to play the holotape. “I know…”

 

But Jo had always hated the game. And so had Nate, for that matter. The controls were too clunky as the player character struggled to jump over bombs while evading nukes the Red Menace threw at them. Vault Girl cried out for help at the top, but she never received it--Jo couldn’t make it past the first level of the game, even after spending a whole ten minutes trying.

 

She spent so long on it because Nora’s voice hadn’t stopped talking to her.

 

_ No! You have to jump a few seconds beforehand, Jo! Right now---noooo, that was your last life wasn’t it? Why don’t I try? _

 

“Sure--” Jo stopped again as she turned around, blinking against the darkness of the mess hall. 

 

There was no Nora.

 

“...maybe later,” she whispered, ejecting the holotape from the terminal. She stuffed the game into her pocket, reaching over for her cardboard box. 

 

The next room Jo found herself in immediately filled her with apprehension. It was a generator room of sorts, a dead roach dancing in the middle between two malfunctioning generators whenever a flash of blue electricity struck it. Jo decided going around would be better, though she ended up running straight through the center when two more roaches surprised her on the other side.

 

She had her baton out, but it was hard to do anything with it when her other arm was supporting her box, so she lured them into the electricity and watched them fry instead, ignoring Nate’s insistence that they had just been cooked for her.

 

From there the infestation problem just seemed to get worse. She was forced to put her box down at some point to swat at a horde of incoming roaches, their screeching silenced by the crunch of their exoskeletons. Jo stomped on the last one for half a minute straight, the green-yellow slime splattering against her pant legs before she finally went to retrieve her water supply. 

 

Eventually Jo found herself in the Overseer’s office, and there was no doubt in her mind the lone skeleton behind the desk was what was left of the Overseer himself. But that wasn’t nearly as important as the loaded 10mm pistol she found there or the stimpacks that had been left behind. They would be a godsend, she was sure, as she tossed her baton into the cardboard box with the water. 

 

She put her supplies down to inspect the rest of the room, once again ignoring the terminal that waited for her by the Overseer’s skeleton. While there was mostly just rotten boxes full of old, illegible files in the room, she also found some spare ammo and a case with a fancy looking gun in it. She tried to pick its case open, but the lock was too secure and the glass too thick, so her only option was to make a little mental note of it for later.

 

The Overseer’s bedroom had some more spare ammo Jo added to her box, and his bathroom mirror held antibiotics that would surely come in handy later. But her biggest find was the pack of cigarettes beside the bed calling her name, though to her dismay they came without a lighter.

 

She begrudgingly tossed them into the box.

 

And so finally, she found herself in front of the Overseer’s terminal, a thin frown on her lips as she grabbed the fallen over office chair and took a seat. There was no holotape this time, no games to be played--only a repeat of the logs she already knew, a new one meant for only the Overseer, and some of the Overseer’s personal logs. 

 

The Overseer’s instructions were almost identical to everyone else’s. No life-saving procedures for those in cryogenic stasis and some information on the experiment as a whole. But there were mentions of how the staff were just as disposable as the experiments, and how  _ unused cryogenic pods were the preferred method for cadaver disposal _ . Jo might have felt shock fifteen minutes ago, but by now her emotions were too frayed to make sense.

 

The Overseer’s personal logs included information on the gun Jo couldn’t get from behinds its encasing--the “Cryolator”, as it were. It was meant to become a portal cryogenic freeze-ray, which made Jo suddenly uninterested in taking it. She wouldn’t put anyone under that sort of hell, unless it was Vault-Tek themselves.

 

The rest of his logs were about the rebellion--the supply shortage, the lack of an all-clear. The Overseer had refused to open the tunnel due to radiation from the outside, which Jo thought made enough sense, but faced with that same lack of supplies she had no choice but to scroll down to the Open Evacuation Tunnel command. The door across from her slid opened, and with little hesitation she grabbed her box and headed for the tunnel.

 

It was full of roaches, which Jo expertly shot dead before they could make it even  halfway down the hall towards her. Having a pistol made her insectophobia lessen, though she refused to look at their carcasses in fear that Nate would make an appearance. 

 

She hadn’t mentally prepared herself to see the Vault’s entrance again. But mental preparation was a luxury, and her eyes were too dry for a breakdown as she shot the last two roaches to make an appearance. Images of her neighbors and Vault-Tek workers swam through her vision as she looked around the room that had, originally, filled them all with such hope. 

 

When she recognized the lab coat on a skeleton nearby, she couldn’t stop herself from punting its skull into the wall where it shattered into pieces.

 

The Vault was still locked down, a massive metal door blocking her way. A sense of claustrophobia began to settle as she made her way to the terminal, afraid to think what would happen to her if she couldn’t find a way to open it. 

 

And at first, there didn’t seem to  _ be _ a way to open it. The red button in the center did nothing when she hit it, and there wasn’t a terminal in sight--but her foot brushed against something below her, followed by a clatter, and when she looked down she found not only a second skeleton, but a skeleton with what she recognized to be a  _ Pip-Boy _ on its arm.

 

“You better still work,” she threatened the machinery as she slipped it off the skeleton’s forearm and onto her own. She held her breath as the screen began to tick to life, green text scrolling as its went through its start-up functions.

 

She used the pad of her thumb to wipe away the dust that had settled on the screen, relief flooding her when the Pip-Boy’s menus began to show up.

 

“ _ Alright _ ,” she breathed, searching the device’s menus and other functions. “How can you help me, little guy?”

 

_ Maybe it hooks into the console? _

 

She was inclined to ignore Nick’s voice at first, but she couldn’t ignore how similar the wired plug on the back was to the console port in front of her. She unhooked the plug from her Pip-Boy and pushed it into the circular hole, her Pip-Boy reacting with a small amount of text and the word “READY” near the top.

 

_ Knew you could do it, partner. _

 

Jo punched the red button to drown out Nick’s voice, and her action was immediately followed by flashing red lights and the sound of a siren. She jumped back as a real voice--or, as real as a computer voice could be--began to speak over the intercom.

 

“ _ Vault door cycling sequence initiated. Please stand back. _ ”

 

Jo rushed towards the walkway, but obeyed the voice’s instructions by staying behind the little gate ahead of her. A giant mechanical arm of sorts made its way down from the ceiling to head for the Vault door, plugging itself in with a grating sound before pulling back, the door coming with it. 

 

The arm then rolled the gear-shaped door off to the right, a blinding light taking its place instead. From there the walkway began to extend itself to allow for passage, and Jo couldn’t help but begin walking across while it was still moving.

 

More grating sounds met her ear as the Vault’s elevator came into view--or at least, it’s entrance. The actual platform was still making its way down, its screech familiar to her ears. She half expected someone to arrive on it. But just like every time before, she found herself disappointed when the gates opened up and revealed nothing but air.

 

She didn’t immediately walk down to the elevator. She took a moment to look back into the Vault one last time, as if contemplating going back. As horrendous as it all was, she didn’t know what the surface would be like in comparison--and if roaches had grown so large down there, what sort of mutations would she find  _ up there _ ?

 

But the Vault was a dead end, and she knew it. It had nothing but cadavers and dust inside, and a morally questionable gun, so she made her way down the steps towards the platform with her box under one arm, her gun in her other hand. 

 

_ Be strong, Jo. We’ll be waiting _ .

 

It was all their voices now. And it wasn’t just Nate, Nora and Nick. It was the whole goddamn bloody Vault whispering in her ear as she stepped onto the platform, her back turned to where she had come from.

 

Yeah, they’d be waiting alright. They’d already been waiting for all too long.

 

“See you on the other side,” Jo croaked, closing her eyes as the intercom spoke above her. 

 

“ _ Enjoy your return to the surface. And thank you for choosing Vault-tec. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the few of you that have bothered reading this like it so far ;u;b
> 
> May as well consider this a novelization of the game tbh. Funny how a moment that goes by so fast in-game ends up being over 5k words as a story :'D;;;
> 
> I kept true to the game's dialogue for the Kellogg scene because you don't really "interact" with him and I just really enjoy his dialogue ok. But again, don't expect this to keep true to everyone's dialogue as we go on, or even true to the exact outcomes of quests etc. I got creative license y'know ;)


End file.
